Deduction just isn't enough
by T. A. Gardner
Summary: Holmes investigates the death of a man and discovers a greater mystery bordering on science fiction. Moreland tells Holmes to leave this investigation alone while Holmes is introduced to a mystery woman who is another potential Moriarty. The conclusion is in the crossover section.


Detective Bell looks up. "Holmes, what're you doing here?"

Holmes, wearing blue latex gloves, is poking around at the dead guy sitting in a chair facing a very elaborate computer system on a work desk. "Slow week, Detective Bell. I thought I might pop in and take a look at this one." Holmes looks at Bell and points at the man. "Detective Bell, do you know who this man is?"

Bell looks at the small notebook in his hand. "Marvin Homestead, thirty-nine. Self-employed computer consultant. No signs of foul play. The EMT's say it was a heart attack. They're getting ready to take him to the morgue."

Holmes stiffens. He flicks his finger at the dead man. "This, Detective Bell, is the man who designed the Monte Carlo quick sort algorithm for bit-coins. He's actually quite famous in mathematical and computer circles."

He bends over to examine the man's face closely, then points at a small nick on his cheek. "Did you notice this cut on his face?"

Bell moves over to the man and looks at the nick. "Cut himself shaving?"

Holmes waves his hand at the man's face. "This man has not shaved for at least forty-eight hours. The cut is not scabbed over indicating it was fresh when he died. It also did not bleed, indicating that was somehow prevented, or possibly cleaned up, after he died."

"I submit; this man was murdered."

"That's a stretch, even for you, Holmes" Bell says.

"Detective Bell, are you familiar with the case of Alexander Litvinenko?"

Bell eyes Holmes, lip twisted up. "No, but I'm sure you'll fill me in."

Holmes stiffens and sweeps his hands out some. "Alexander Litvinenko was a KGB operative that sought asylum in the UK. On November first, two thousand six, he was poisoned by an FSB operative, the Russian equivalent of the KGB, with Polonium 210. He died three weeks later."

"I was at Scotland Yard at the time, but was not allowed to work on that case. This man's death has the same feel about it."

"You think the Russians assassinated this guy?" Bell asks, still looking skeptical.

Holmes rocks on his toes. "No, I do not. I think it is far more likely that someone associated with the dark side of coins, or other cyber activity, did. I can think of several parties that might do something like this."

He turns to the desk. "Has anyone looked at his computer system?"

"No," Bell says. "No reason when it's a natural cause of death."

"Might I?" Holmes asks. He turns to a stack of old-style perforated edge computer paper covered in short blocks of numbers. "I'd like to take these too."

Bell hesitates a moment. "I suppose. What do you want with that stack of paper?"

Holmes gestures at the stack. "This, Detective Bell, appears to be a variant of a transposition code in octal. He might have been talking to someone."

Joan Watson enters the brownstone. "Holmes, I'm back!"

She stops as she enters the living room. There is a flaccid, middle-aged, man in boxer shorts looking at several whiteboards full of numbers. More are projected on a wall beside them. He is muttering to himself.

Holmes enters from the kitchen. "Ah, Watson! Just in time. "

"Harlan, could you at least put your pants on" Joan asks. She turns to Holmes. "What is all this?"

"Our latest case," Holmes replies with a thin smile, putting a hand out towards Harlan's work.

"Isn't it great?" Harlan adds. "It's a real time octal language with a transposition code laid on top of it. See! I've found thirty-eight letters, and two hundred and ten other characters and numbers. I've identified what are likely seven vowels and the rest are consonants." He points at a block of other numbers on a whiteboard. "Those are the known null sets and sets that represent whole words or ideas."

Watson cocks her head slightly. "So you can read this?"

"Nope!" Harlan replies laughing. "It's a totally alien language. I have no idea what's being said. That's what makes it so intriguing!"

"And, that's why you took your clothes off?" Watson asks.

"Absolutely!" Harlan replies, almost giddy. "This is the most incredible math puzzle Sherlock has ever given me."

"Watson," Holmes interrupts. "We need to depart for the morgue. The medical examiner has finished with our victim."

At the morgue, Watson is looking the corpse over. "This little nick is all he has?" she asks incredulously.

"I did a full line of toxicology tests and they all came back negative" the medical examiner says. "If he was poisoned, its nothing I know of. I have to call this one natural causes, Sherlock."

He holds up a plastic evidence bag. "I did find this on his clothes." He hands the bag to Holmes.

Inside there is a tiny piece of what looks like Scotch tape. Holmes examines it carefully.

"It's really something amazing under a microscope Sherlock," the medical examiner says. "Never seen anything like it."

As Holmes and Watson leave the morgue, he turns to her. "I think we should pay another visit to Mister Homestead's residence."

At the residence, Holmes lets Watson pick the door lock, and they enter. They begin to search for clues. They go to the basement where they find an elaborate cooling system and heat exchanger, along with multiple outlets and electrical disconnect boxes. Many have wiring hanging from them.

"He must have had a lot of electronics down here" Watson offers.

Holmes sneers. "Bit-coin data mining bank would be my guess. I submit that the NSA has been here before us."

"The NSA?" Joan asks.

"Yes. A coin databank would give them a wealth of information on transactions, legal and illegal." Sherlock points at some of the wiring. "The cleanliness of the disconnections here indicates professionals did this very quickly and neatly."

They continue to move through the home. On the third floor of the row house, they find a window that has been forced open.

Sherlock examines it carefully. "Whoever did this was a professional. This is where our assassin entered the building."

"How could someone get up to this window to begin with?" Joan asks.

Holmes swipes his gloved finger over the window sill. "Skilled rock climber. Maybe the use of a repelling line from the roof. There are several methods that are possible. Whatever their means, this is where they entered the building."

Joan gives Holmes a puzzled look. "How did the murderer get close enough to Homestead to carry out the act?"

"It is possible the assailant was able to approach him undetected" Holmes replies. "The poison or agent used would have had to be very fast acting since there is no evidence he was moved to where he was found. He died in the chair he was found in."

"This is beginning to have the smell of the NSA all over it."

"Watson!" Sherlock is shouting from the kitchen.

Watson comes down the stairs in pajamas, rubbing her eyes. "What now? Do you know what time it is?"

Sherlock ignores her commentary, "It's all gone!" He waves his arm at the table, then Harlan's boards.

"What's gone?"

Sherlock moves to a cupboard and begins rummaging in it. "All the evidence in the Homestead case. Our inner sanctum has been violated."

He collects three small cameras. "Someone broke in last night and took everything to do with that case. They scrubbed our computers as well. It has the smell of the NSA on it."

Holmes hooks the cameras to a monitor and begins playing back the recordings.

"You know, I've never liked you having hidden cameras in the house" Joan says.

Holmes doesn't look up from the monitor. "They're for situations like this, nothing else."

They watch the video. The camera looking at the whiteboards shows they start to erase themselves. There's no one in sight.

Joan stares mouth slack.

Holmes' jaw is clenched tight, his eyes narrow. A small, slivery square appears. All of the computer printouts and other evidence starts to disappear into it.

Holmes stops the replay. "He points at the screen. "Someone is doing this. You can see the outline of their hand on the documents."

"How is that even possible?" Watson stammers. "What is that?"

Holmes stares at the picture. "My father said I had no idea who I was dealing with. Apparently, he was correct."

Joan looks at him, head cocked slightly. "You talked to Moreland about this case?"

Holmes turns and heads up stairs. "Yes. I thought he might have useful information on why the government was interested in Marvin Homestead. I'm to meet him tomorrow."

On the third floor, Holmes points at a back window that is slightly open. "They entered here."

"How'd you know that?" Joan asks.

"It is the same point of entry we found at Homestead's. Neither this window, nor the one at Homestead's had a security sensor on it, being on the third floor and considered inaccessible."

"The murderer and our thief are one in the same person. What I do not understand is why they took the evidence and left us alive."

Watson stares at him.

Sherlock stiffens and rocks slightly on his feet. "Oh, come now Watson! We know about the evidence. There is no way our murderer could know if we had copied it or otherwise retained portions of it elsewhere. If the evidence was so important as to warrant them coming here to fetch it, why didn't they interrogate and or kill us to prevent the possibility we had more copies?"

"Given what we saw on those videos, maybe they did" Joan replies.

Holmes heads to the kitchen, Watson right behind him. "I want another look at those videos" he shouts.

When they arrive, they find the cameras and video are gone. In their place is a thin manila envelope. Holmes grabs his single stick and starts waving it around the room.

"It would seem you were right Watson. Our burglar was still present and used our brief absence to collect any additional evidence we might reveal and listen to our conversation."

Watson looks alarmed. "Do you think he's still here?"

"The possibility certainly does present itself," Holmes replies, still waving and poking the stick around.

Finding nothing, Holmes and Watson turn to the envelope. There are several photographs of a stunning beautiful young woman and a thin dossier that is marked top secret and bears CIA stamps on it. A pink sheet of paper with a _Hello Kitty_ in one corner is under the others.

 _Ask Moreland about this when you see him_ is printed on it.

"I should have suspected my father was involved in this" Holmes snarls.

"I don't get it" Joan replies. "What does a Cal Tech grad student who was last seen in Hong Kong over two years ago have to do with this murder?"

"I think, Watson, we have found another Moriarty" Holmes replies looking at one of the photos. He pulls out his smartphone and types in something.

He shows the phone to Watson. "This."

Holmes climbs aboard a private jet at an airport on the Connecticut state line. Moreland Holmes gives Sherlock a thin smile. "You look well Sherlock."

Sherlock thrusts the envelope towards Moreland. "One of your operatives?"

Moreland looks at the contents briefly, putting everything back in. He frowns deeply. "You have no idea what you're dealing with here Sherlock. To answer your question, no, she is not one of my operatives. But, I do know of her."

"We have never met. She is quite reclusive and elusive actually. We have occasion to do business, however."

"She invented bit-coins, and…" Moreland turns to open a case on the desk next to him. "…this." He hands Sherlock a small vail with a clear liquid in it, one of many in the case."

"What is it?" Holmes asks.

Moreland takes the vail back, closing the case. "A fountain of youth drug of sorts. It all but stops aging. The best chemists on the planet cannot figure out how it was made, yet here it is."

Moreland smiles. "I was asked to relay a message. She is not at odds with you and askes you leave the Homestead matter alone."

Moreland's expression turns sad. "Please Sherlock, leave this one alone. I cannot protect you from her. I know there is no love lost between us, but I don't want to see you dead over what is a trivial matter."

Holmes sits in the living room staring at the woman's dossier and other items taped up to the wall.

Watson comes in. "How'd it go with your father?"

"He asked me to leave this matter alone" Sherlock replies. "Watson, there is a much larger mystery here than a single murder and this woman is at the center of it."


End file.
